bricolage

redhead • editor • traveller • expat • rarely seen without coffee and glasses • essentially a mix of combeferre and bahorel, in tall boots

Nov 9
[sjkf;jsk right, there is no possible way this could be properly served by one drabble; in some countries I’m quite sure it might be illegal. SO. bending my own rules and doing three. at least each is still 100 words?]

The camera was a gift Grantaire found easier to accept than he has others, notwithstanding how it came with the price of Combeferre’s desire that he use it every day to record something, however small, however unimportant he might think it in the moment.

Why he’d waste time on anything small or unimportant in any moment was lost on Grantaire, but there’s no arguing with Combeferre—there never has been—and though he scorns photography as therapy more than art, Grantaire falls into the rhythm of it, enjoying the ease of shutter clicks when pens or brushes offer no inspiration.


::

As the year comes to its close, Grantaire feels worn down in many ways, but using the camera still renews him, still leads him to find art in the small and unimportant. Trusting that his directives have been followed—they always are—Combeferre’s never demanded to see Grantaire’s photos, though he’s thrilled by what Grantaire’s willing to show.


Some part of Grantaire wonders if when the year ends this spell he and Combeferre have combined to cast will, too, and he wakes on New Year’s Eve ready to fight for it with a last and most important shot of himself.


::

At first glance of it Combeferre loses his breath, then Grantaire watches him fall visibly in love with it and Grantaire, too, again. Words can fail even the wordiest, they’ve both found, but not usually in times like these, and Combeferre’s silence and surprise, however unintentional, however well-meant and necessary, unnerves Grantaire, who reaches to retrieve the photo, laughing when Combeferre resists.


 It’s just a picture, Grantaire says, the laughter catching hard in his throat when Combeferre looks up, shaking his head. It’s everything you’ve seen and how it’s changed you, Combeferre says. It’s everything you will be and are.

[sjkf;jsk right, there is no possible way this could be properly served by one drabble; in some countries I’m quite sure it might be illegal. SO. bending my own rules and doing three. at least each is still 100 words?]

The camera was a gift Grantaire found easier to accept than he has others, notwithstanding how it came with the price of Combeferre’s desire that he use it every day to record something, however small, however unimportant he might think it in the moment.

Why he’d waste time on anything small or unimportant in any moment was lost on Grantaire, but there’s no arguing with Combeferre—there never has been—and though he scorns photography as therapy more than art, Grantaire falls into the rhythm of it, enjoying the ease of shutter clicks when pens or brushes offer no inspiration.

::

As the year comes to its close, Grantaire feels worn down in many ways, but using the camera still renews him, still leads him to find art in the small and unimportant. Trusting that his directives have been followed—they always are—Combeferre’s never demanded to see Grantaire’s photos, though he’s thrilled by what Grantaire’s willing to show.

Some part of Grantaire wonders if when the year ends this spell he and Combeferre have combined to cast will, too, and he wakes on New Year’s Eve ready to fight for it with a last and most important shot of himself.

::

At first glance of it Combeferre loses his breath, then Grantaire watches him fall visibly in love with it and Grantaire, too, again. Words can fail even the wordiest, they’ve both found, but not usually in times like these, and Combeferre’s silence and surprise, however unintentional, however well-meant and necessary, unnerves Grantaire, who reaches to retrieve the photo, laughing when Combeferre resists.

 It’s just a picture, Grantaire says, the laughter catching hard in his throat when Combeferre looks up, shaking his head. It’s everything you’ve seen and how it’s changed you, Combeferre says. It’s everything you will be and are.


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